


Staying Close

by darlingswanscharmedbygold



Series: OUAT Spanking Fics [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Spanking, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 21:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingswanscharmedbygold/pseuds/darlingswanscharmedbygold
Summary: Mary Margaret is not pleased when she finds out Emma tried to run.
Relationships: Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard & Emma Swan
Series: OUAT Spanking Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1140614
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Staying Close

Emma tried to sneak back into the loft without being seen. She should’ve known Mary Margaret would be awake. After all, she always had been.

“I wondered where you were.” Her voice is cold. This isn’t Mary Margaret. This is someone far different. Henry would say it’s Snow White, if Emma believed in that bull. “It’s not as if you said goodbye.”

“Mary Marg…”

“Buh buh.” She fixed her with a look. “What was that?”  


Emma ducked her head. Jesus. Why had she let Mary Margaret act as her mother over the past few months? If she hadn’t found that stupid box with all her baby things, maybe it would’ve been more of a secret. Most of the time, Mary Margaret treated her like a teenager. At night, she was a tiny baby. She diapered Emma, she doted on her. Emma gave Mary Margaret someone to care for. Mary Margaret was the first maternal figure she’d ever had.

Except now, came out Emma’s least part of the little arrangements. Little girls were punished properly according to Mary Margaret.

“Mommy,” Emma whispered. “Please.”

“Where were you, Emma?”

“I…I was trying to leave with Henry.”

Mary Margaret’s hands fell at her hips. “You were running away.”

“I just…I know Regina is no good…”

“She’s his mother, Em-ma.” Mary Margaret took a step forward. “And you’re sorely forgetting who you’ve chosen yours to be.”

“Mommy, please,” Emma repeated, this time her voice was weak.

Mary Margaret swiftly shook her head. “You’re lucky you weren’t arrested or hurt. You’re lucky Henry wasn’t!” Emma hung her head. “You’re in no condition to raise a child, you act like one yourself.”

Emma bit down on her lip, knowing she was right.

“You know where to go,” Mary Margaret said. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“But…”

Mary Margaret popped her bottom, causing Emma to let out a whimper. She walked to Mary Margaret’s bed and pulled down her jeans, kicking them to the side. She laid face down on the bed, inhaling the sweet fabric softener. She could hear the footsteps coming closer.

“You think you get to keep your panties, eh?”

Emma gulped. “Mary Marg-ow! Mommy!”

“Down, now!”

Emma sighed and stood up, removing her panties as instructed. Mary Margaret sat in the chair and Emma laid across her lap. Her mommy moved up her knee, so Emma’s ass was on display. Her smacks began fiercely. There wasn’t much of a pause in between. She went from left cheek to right, causing Emma to start kicking right away. Mary Margaret smacked her skinny thigh to put a stop to that.

“Do we run away?”

Emma let out a yelp of pain. “No!”

“Do we kidnap?”

“Owie! No!!!”

“Are you going to do it again?”

“No! I promise!”

Mary Margaret continued, watching her cheeks go from pale to light pink. After twenty eight firm smacks, Emma was sniffing and trying to hold back tears.

“Go get the brush, Emma.”

“But Mommy…” Another smack. “Don’t you think…” SMACK. “Ow! Ow! Fine!”

She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand as she walked over to the wardrobe. Emma took the brush off the hook. It was wooden and red, with the words “Naughty Duckling” imprinted on it. Emma carried it back to her mommy and handed it to her, before laying back over her lap.

One. Emma yelled.

Two. Emma pleaded for forgiveness.

Three. Emma started sobbing.

Four. Emma was thrashing about and didn’t care when her mommy hit her thighs with the brush.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Emma was crying for her mommy to hold her.

Nine. Emma howled.

Ten. Emma went limp.

Mary Margaret put the brush on the side table, gently rubbing her daughter’s bottom. “There, there,” she cooed. “It’s almost over. You know what you have to do.”

Emma hiccupped. “I want cuddles.”

“And you’ll get them. After corner time.”

Emma sniffled and limped to the corner. She kept whining and rubbing her bottom. Mary Margaret moved about the loft, getting everything ready. She made her baby stand in the corner for 28 minutes, before calling to the bed. Emma laid on her tummy, her rump high in the air.

Mary Margaret rubbed the lotion onto Emma’s bottom before grabbing hold of the diaper. She taped it on, able to do it backwards expertly by now. She sat Emma up and removed her jacket.

“Arms up.” Emma obliged with a sniffle and allowed Mary Margaret to remove her sweater. A yellow duckling t-shirt was slid over her body next. “There we go.”

She pulled her closer and ran her fingers through her hair. Emma buried her head in Mary Margaret’s chest, letting out a deep sigh.

“This is where you belong,” Mary Margaret reminded her. “And you’ll never leave it.”


End file.
